A/N: The first eight or so chapters need to be written all over again. They were written more or less 5 years ago, when I was beginning to learn English, and the story was not fully planned. Just a warning. Once the sory is finished, I will edit them.
Chapter 1 : new girl, new school, old town
Actually, I think it's creepy and far too normal to start with 'Dear Diary', but I lack imagination. I mean, come on, everyone begins with that little line. I think that from now on, I will refer to you as The Notebook (no link with the book and movie). So hi Notebook!
God, I need to sleep.
Tomorrow is my first day at Nibelheim High, and also the beginning of my last year of high school. I think I'll go to Midgar after; I heard their music program is one of the best. I heard strange things about this school, though (Nibelheim, not Midgar). Friday, when I came back from the school to get my papers, I noticed that some of the teenagers were wearing a black bandana around their arms or foreheads, or even necks. And all the ones with black bandanas were huddled together on one side of the street; people without bandanas or with a grey one were on the other side.
I guess I'll learn more about it tomorrow, or should I say in a few hours? I'm so nervous I can't sleep. I'm back in my hometown but nobody seems to remember our family. Granted, I left when I was two. But still, we buried my mom here 10 years ago. I thought people would actually wave and say ''Look! The Lockhearts are back!'' No, everywhere I go I see frowns, strange looks, pity, and confusion on people's faces.
What's going on here?
Nibelheim. Great. Just great. What in the world had her father been smoking when he had decided to come here? Some pretty strong shit, Tifa Lockheart thought. The city was small, at the other end of the world; the temperature was cold for the beginning of September, and the only attraction was a teenager hangout –a small café that didn't seem to serve only coffee–, which she didn't even dare to approach yet.
Next to her, in the driver's seat, her father was humming. Mr. Lockheart was quite happy to come back in their hometown –and she didn't have a fucking clue why. He had bought a Victorian looking house in the richer residential part of the town and had even engaged a cook and a maid.
''Because I'll have to travel a lot to Midgar for the company, and I don't want you to do everything in the house alone, sweetie.''
Yeah, right, like she'd believe that. Tifa knew of her father's drunken antics. He'd go travelling for some weeks, sometimes months, come back exhausted, and with his credit card's bill higher than ever. Oh well, she thought, let him do whatever he wants. It's not like she really needed him after all. With her father's frequent absences and her mother's early death, she had raised herself.
The car came to a stop, and Tifa opened her eyes to stare at her new school. Nibelheim High was written in faded gold letters on a dirty brass besides the door. Tifa eyed the school warily. Everything about the building screamed low-money. Christ, they couldn't even clean the entrance of the school. From where she was, she could see the more than full trash bins on the school lawn. She groaned. She wasn't that spoiled, but after going to a private school for the biggest part of her life, this public establishment seemed inferior.
''Come one, sweetie. You don't want to be late on your first day of school.''
''Breathe, Dad,'' she muttered. ''It's not like they want to see me.''
And it's not like I wanna go in there, she thought.
Mr. Lockheart squinted his eyes and glared at his daughter. Without telling him goodbye, Tifa picked up her backpack and jumped out of the car. She recognized the look on her father's face, the one that came before a long and boring lecture about respect. She scowled at the retreating vehicle. Perhaps if she had begged him not to go, he would have listened to her and cancel her inscription at Nibelheim High.
As if, Tifa thought bitterly. She sighed and zipped up her black jacket. She was half-tempted to bring the hood up to hide her face. That way people would leave her alone. Perhaps. After what she had seen Friday she wasn't sure about this school social system. There was probably an It crowd like in every other school; surely there was jocks, preppy kids, cheerleaders, punks, nerds, geeks, Goths, skaters, everything. And one look at the courtyard confirmed her guess.
Tifa immediately knew she would be labelled. At her old school, Midgar Academy, people labelled each other, but she had never really fitted in a crowd. She had friends, and every one of them was different. Anyway, there had been uniforms, too. But here, it was an enormous jungle. Tifa knew that right away. If you weren't 'normal', you were rejected. Quickly, she glanced at herself. Faded blue jeans that were ripped and had holes in the knees, deep red tank top, black Vans with hot pink laces, black zipped-up hoodie, a thumb ring and tear drop earrings, some eyeliner and mascara, dark brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, and scarlet nail polish.
She looked good, and she knew it. She breathed deeply.
''Time to enter Hell…'' she whispered to herself.
Tifa was making her way toward the entrance when the whole courtyard suddenly became silent. She turned around, curious. Everyone was staring at the school's doors, which had just opened to reveal three teenagers. One was a short girl with equally short black hair who was bouncing on her toes. She was holding a redhead's hand and was whispering to him. The other guy was standing still, a smug smirk on his face. He had spiky ebony black hair, a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and jeans that screamed money. He was playing with something in his pocket that made a jingling sound -probably his keys, Tifa thought.
''And here come the popular kids!'' Tifa muttered under her breath.
A tall blonde girl looked at her with an expression akin to curiosity. She opened her mouth but whatever she had to say was cut by the sound of a car coming their way. At the sight of the vehicle, she knew she had been wrong in the first place. The persons inside the sleek silver automobile were The Popular kids. Every single person in the crowd stood on their tiptoes to watch. Tifa wrinkled her nose in disgust. This school was already on her black list, but with all these students looking ready to kiss the ground the It crowd walked on, it only sank lower in her esteem.
Slowly, the car came to a stop in front of the school's steps, and the driver's door opened. Tifa immediately knew the driver was a girl; guys wouldn't make that much of a dramatic entrance. Surely, a girl stepped out without hurry. Tifa almost snorted at the pathetic view. But she had to admit that the young woman was beautiful. She would have been short -5'3'', perhaps 5'4''– if it weren't for the three inches heels. She was dressed in a pink summer dress, and her long chestnut hair was twisted down her back with a pink ribbon. A few curly bangs framed her face in a lovely way, and her emerald green eyes sparkled, full of life. In short, she looked straight out of a magazine.
Tifa blinked; this girl radiated gentleness and simplicity. Perhaps it was the pink colour. Christ, even her messenger bag and nail polish and heels were pink. It was so lively that it hurt her eyes. Tifa noticed a sudden movement on her left. The black haired guy had strolled down the steps, grinning. He stopped in front of the girl and engulfed her in a tight hug. Some students began to applause and almost everyone followed suited. Soon, the deafening sound of hundred of people clapping and cheering thundered in the courtyard.
Tifa was left dumbfounded on the sidelines. What was that? Was this school in love with a couple of horny teenagers who probably slept around and pretended to love each other? Probably. After everything she had seen in the past few days it wouldn't a surprise. Tifa moaned mentally. She just wanted to go home damn it! Right now she only wished to be invisible. Disappear and never come back. That would be so good…
''Get out of the car, idiot!''
Tifa looked up. The black haired guy was thumping in mock annoyance on the car's passenger window. He jumped back when the door opened abruptly. From her spot, all Tifa could see was a backpack flying out of the car and hitting Black Hair straight in the face. He groaned and gripped in nose. She could see he was faking from here but the other guy didn't seem to care.
''Shut up, Zack. The sound of your voice alone is giving me a headache.''
Zack stopped his acting and resumed grinning. Tifa frowned as the guy stepped out of the car. She could only see a mop of unruly and abnormally spiky blond hair resting on a head, which was, obviously, attached to a black-clad body. Baggy dark jeans, black Converse and white-stripped black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He was tall, though a few inches shorter than Zack. He and the blonde guy did the typical half-hug, half-handshake and walked toward the school, talking and laughing, the pretty girl at their side.
''You're new, right?''
Tifa turned her head to stare at the blonde girl from earlier. She nodded and offered her hand. The girl took it in a floppy handshake.
''I'm Elena, and I know you're dying to know what just happened.''
Tifa chuckled. They sauntered in the direction of the school. Some dark clouds had gathered and it was obvious there would be a storm later on. Tifa swallowed out of nervousness. She had always hated thunderstorm. Soon, she discovered that Elena lived out of gossip. The girl was friendly enough but the only thing she talked about other's people lives. Quickly growing annoyed, Tifa zoned off. Elena continued for another two minutes before nudging her and pointing to her schedule.
''What's your first class?''
''English,'' Tifa sighed.
''Nice! You have the same homeroom as me and my friends!''
Great, Tifa thought. If her friends were all like her she wasn't sure she would survive.